


Gettimg Dressed

by Khylara



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21689968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Relationships: Michael Cole/Tazz
Kudos: 4





	Gettimg Dressed

Title: Getting Dressed  
Author: Khylara  
Fandom/couple: WWF M Cole/Tazz(Peter)  
Rating: R for MM affection/situations  
Spoilers: Slightly for Smackdown 4/4  
Synopsis: Mikey and Tazz getting dressed before Smackdown.  
Comments: This answers Merc's challenge as to who got Tazz to wear a  
suit to Smackdown (Thanks Merc!:) Also brings up my pet theory as to  
why Mikey looked just a little mussed ar WM 18 :)

***************

"You are NOT going to wear that."

Tazz looked up from tying his sneakers. Michael Cole was standing at  
the foot of the bed, arms folded across his chest and a frown on his  
face. He glanced down at his clothes: blue jeans and a "thug  
superstar" t-shirt. "What's the matter with it? It's clean. " he  
asked, slightly defensive. "brand new, too."

"You know as well as I do what's the matter with it. We were both at  
the commentator's meeting." Michael countered, more than a little  
annoyed. "McMahon wants both of us dressed up tonight to issue  
in "the new era of Smackdown". And if I have to wear a suit, then so  
do you."

Tazz scowled. "No way."

"Look, I know you don't like it. I don't, either. But we have to."  
Michael made a show of looking over his lover's clothes again. "You  
have to change. McMahon'll have a cow if you show up to the arena  
dressed like that."

"McMahon can have a flaming porcupine breech position for all I  
fucking care," Tazz shot back, his anger growing. "Bad enough I'm  
back behind the announcer's table...I'm a damn wrestler, for Christ  
sakes! Not Howard Cosell!" Catching the crestfallen look that  
suddenly appeared on Michael's face, Tazz turned  
contrite. "Mikey...baby, I'm sorry. You know what I mean." He paused,  
trying to find the words. "This...how I feel...it's got nothin' to do  
with you."

After a moment, Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I  
know," he said quietly. "And I know you're frustrated. But bucking  
McMahon tonight is not going to get your point across. It's just  
going to get you suspended." Sitting down next to him, Michael put an  
arm around Tazz's broad shoulder. "You know that."

"Yeah, I know." He let out a heavy sigh. "Sorry, babe. Everything  
about this whole brand extension mess is pissing me off and I don't  
mean to take it out on you." He paused. "First the fucking lottery,  
then that jackass puts me back behind the table, then we find out  
we're not doing "Heat" anymore..."

"But you're the best one for "Smackdown"." Michael said in an attempt  
to soothe. "You sat in on the tryouts. We work so well together that  
nobody else felt right."

Reaching up, Tazz put his hand over Michael's, twining their fingers  
together. "This may have a lot to do with it," he commented.

"It probably does, but it still works." Michael agreed. "As  
for "Heat", not doing it will give us a little more time together  
outside of work."

"You gotta point there," Tazz admitted. Turning a little in  
Michael's embrace, he ran a finger along his beard. "Give you a  
chance to catch up with yourself, too, babe. You've been running  
yourself ragged lately."

"We've both been," Michael admitted quietly, leaning against his  
lover. "Look at it this way. You doing commentary will give us both  
a break until they find a decent story line for you. And you'll still  
be wrestling at house shows and on "Heat". He didn't sideline you  
completely." Michael paused, brushing a kiss against Tazz's  
temple. "And it won't be forever. Maybe a few months...just until  
the "Smackdown" brand is firmly established and McMahon calms down.  
You can be patient for that long, can't you?"

After a moment, Tazz turned to face Michael. "You know how much I  
hate it when you're right?" he asked conversationally.

Michael couldn't help smiling. "I know."

Another long silence, then Tazz bit his lip and nodded. "Okay, fine.  
I'll sit at ringside and toe the line like a good boy. I'll even say  
nice things about the jackass. No waves, I promise." He paused, the  
frown returning. "But I'm not wearing that damn suit."

"Peter..."

"Damnit, Mikey, no!" Tazz turned away. "That asshole may be the boss,  
but he can't tell me what to wear. And nothin' you say is gonna make  
me change my mind, either."

"But you always looks so nice when you get all dressed up," Michael  
cajoled. Leaning over, he nuzzled his lover's ear. "C'mon. Please,  
love? I'll make it worth your while."

That got Tazz's attention. He turned back to face Michael, a slow  
smile spreading across his face. "You will, huh? What did you have in  
mind?"

Michael smiled as well. "I was thinking this for a start." Leaning  
closer, he cupped the back of Tazz's head and pulled him into a kiss.

Tazz let out a little sigh when Michael drew away some moments  
later. "That was nice, babe," he said. "but you're gonna have to  
better than that if you want to get my jeans off."

"Oh, I already know how to do that," Michael countered, still  
smiling. "Remember Wrestlemania?"

A blush darkened Tazz's cheeks as the memory came back to him. They  
had filmed "Heat" in one of the skyboxes overlooking the crowded  
Skydome, both of them dressed to the nines in rented tuxedos, both of  
them concentrating on business. Until the moment the camera crew had  
left the two of them alone; Michael had locked the door behind them  
and immediately pounced, giving him one of the most incredible blow  
jobs ever before he had to leave. There had been no warning, no  
hesitation...and no mercy.

"I don't know what it is," Michael continued softly. "but you in a  
suit drives me absolutely crazy. I just think you look so sexy in  
one." He paused. "Please, Peter? Will you put it on for me?"

Tazz looked up at his lover, meeting Michael's long, loving gaze with  
one of his own. "You really like it, huh?" Michael nodded eagerly and  
after a moment Tazz reached down and pulled off his sneakers. "Okay."

Michael's eyes widened in both surprise and delight. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." Getting up off the bed, he went to the hotel room  
closet and pulled out the black suit hanging there. "I'll put the get  
up on. Not for McMahon or to make "Smackdown" look good." He pulled  
out a black dress shirt to go with it. "For you."

Michael visibly relaxed. "Thank you."

"Just one thing," Peter said as he pulled off his t-shirt and tossed  
it aside. "You're gonna help me take it off after the show, right?"

Michael grinned. "If you help me take off mine."

"You got it, babe," Tazz paused in the middle of undoing his jeans, a  
mischevious look suddenly appearing on his face. "You know...I COULD  
use a little help right now, too," he said. "This zipper's really  
hard to undo."

Laughing, Michael slipped off his jacket and put it on a nearby  
chair. "I'll see what I can do."

Tazz pulled the smaller man into his arms. "And next week, we're both  
wearing jeans, no matter what that jackass says." He paused, giving  
Michael a once over with his eyes. "'Cause seeing you wearing them  
turns ME on."

Michael stopped what he was doing, the surprised look  
returning. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Grinning, Tazz's hands slid down to cup his lover's  
ass. "'Cause hiding a perfect peach of an ass like yours under a  
monkey suit like this is the worst thing I can think of."

"Hey!" Michael protested even as his cheeks turned bright red. "This  
is my best suit!"

"Looks even better off you," Tazz countered, pulling Michael into a  
kiss that ended all conversation between them for the time being


End file.
